A Final letter to Summer Camp

Dear Son,
 
This is the last letter you will receive in summer camp, EVER.  I know you will never be back.  I think the place has worn out it's welcome with you.  Beside that, the food sucks.

And there is excitement in this letter.  You are about to embark on a new and exciting adventure, Adulthood.  You have wanted to enter for a while and my son, the wait is about to be over. 

I am excited because you are about to go get a summer job.  It will no doubt be lousy and you will complain but come payday, you will smile.

And then we will pack up new sheets, blankets and towels and you will be on your way to school.  New friends, new surroundings, new opportunities and a lifetime of memories.

It is here.  And we have all gone through hell getting here, haven't we?

As we said before, it was meant to be.  It had to happen.  I don't know why we were picked but we were.  And, it is what it is.  God's will.

There have been many blessings out of this whole ordeal.  And some lessons.

I looked forward to our visits.  I saw you grow up during this last extended stay at summer camp.  We spoke, just you and I, without interruptions, cell phones, etc.  We speed dated.  I learned about you and I hope that you learned something about me.  I learned to value my time with you. 

I looked forward to listening to you.

I am grateful that we, as a family, have been given a second chance.  Not everyone gets one of those.  I am grateful that you have found love in your heart for your dad and your siblings.

I have learned that I need to react less, yell less and love more.


When I met your dad, he was on easy street.  He had just himself to take care of, Nichole and Rachel were grown.  He was not married and had it made.  He took me to your Aunt Judy's for Thanksgiving and there you were.  Tiny, hillbilly and full of energy.  You sat on my lap and I pretended I was Santa Claus as we looked through the Toys r Us catalogue.  The only thing you wanted was a Buzz Light year doll.  I was hooked.

It always amazed me that your dad wanted to start over.  But he did.  And we did it together.  We were going to elope on New Year's eve at the Gazebo in the Battery of Charleston.  We got you on December 16 and we just said, "Plan B".  WE never looked back.  Not for a second.

WE loved you like a love that I did not know existed.  And maybe that he is why he wanted to start over with you, he knew what that love felt like when you had a child.

No, your dad is not perfect.  Neither am I.  Neither are you.  WE have all had our moments.

The one thing that I am sure of, for two years, I had a feeling in my gut that was "off".  I know that the reason I said and did some of the things I did because I knew something was off.  When your dad and I drove home that night from states, I was crying.  Not because of second place, but because I knew the ride was about to begin.  I could feel it in my gut and I was scared to death.  Not because of attorneys or summer camp but I was afraid you would die and we would bury you.  I was sure of it.  I showed up at that one party that night scared to death that I would find you dead in Wyatt's house.  And that fear never left.  The uneasiness never left.  Your dad and I would take turns driving around that island searching for you just because we were afraid you were gone.

When I got the call a month ago, about Brian, I started to spiral out of control.  It all came back.  I knew how close I had been and now here it was within the family and it just made me consumed all over again.

When you have a child, you can purchase all kinds of books about ear aches, allergies, hyper activity but there are not books about "my kid is gone, he is smoking weed and I have no idea where he is".  Many nights I would be awake in the middle of the night just thinking and your dad would whisper, "are you up?"  The answer was always yes.

As my mom told me, you will NEVER understand what this is like until you have a child of your own.  Only then will you understand the love that comes.  It is amazing.

And now, we have reached the point where you will be coming home again, a place that should give you peace and not unrest.

Things are different.    You are different.  Your dad and I are different.  As much as I would like to think that if I say "don't" then you "won't", I know that is not the case. 

 This is your life.

I know there are seeds of greatness in you.  Those seeds and those memories are the only thing that have kept your dad and I going.  Your siblings too.  We know you have it in you.  We know you want to do it.  We know you can.  And we will help you.  We will help you if you come to us and you are honest with us.  It won't be easy.  Adulthood sucks;.  It is hard.  But I am pretty sure that your dad and I have proven to you that we are there for you, as long as you are honest and authentic.  Don't be afraid to fail.  You will not.  Things may go differently than you expect, but that doesn't mean you failed.

There are special things that when I am reminded of them, I want to pick you up and lift you into a successful life.  It is not my life and that is not how it works.  I think about you at Halloween, every time I look at milk or a kiwi or a snickers.  When the Titanic is on the only thing I think of is "ice burg, ice burg, straight ahead".  I bought Walker duck tape today and thought of you.  Nobody can do with duck tape what you can do.  Soft shirts and boxers.  Chocolate covered pretzels. The cooking channel aka porn for wrestlers.  Rudolph.  When you were little on Saturday morning you would always ask "do we have to leave the house today?"  If I said no, you had an "outfit" on and I didn't see you again until lunch time.  Tom Hanks and Castaway.  You.  I just think of you.  And I miss you.  I miss you running up and then running down the steps.  I miss you calling me mom.  I miss you saying thank you when I would come home with a bag of stuff for you.

And despite the hell, the past two years has made me a better person.  I am forgiving.  I am less judgmental.  I look at things in a totally different way.  I think more before I speak.  I listen more.  I understand more. I try not to fly off the handle as much and that is hard for me.  So, I ask for help.  Help is cool.  Help has saved me.

Throughout this situation, your dad and I have been united.  Not always speaking to one another, but united.  When he was up, I was down.  And vise versa.  Never did we have a bad day on the same day.  We helped one another.  We didn't pass judgment.  We helped.  It was kind of cool.  Help is cool.  I know you love to help others, so accept help from others.  It is a gift. 

Your siblings are older and wiser and educated.  And they are the two most forgiving people ever.  With those two and your dad and I, you have a base to help you succeed.

We are not purposely sending you far away to send you far away.  You need a do over.  A giant do over.  And it is best to do over where nobody knows your name.  Trust me, I did it.  Greenville, SC baby.  And my life took a huge turn, for the better.

Be the authentic you.  Be the real and genuine you.  The authentic you is the you we all love.

There is not a morning or a night time in the past two years that you were not my first or my last thought of the day.  That is love.  We have had time to heal, grow, learn and forgive.  WE have served our time too. 

Yes, you may have missed out on so many things.  But there are far more things ahead of you.  You got this.

Now is the time for us to put our hands together, without glass, and say "You got this."  I cannot wait to see how wonderful the "this" is. 

 It really is easy.

In the words in Dr. Seuss,

Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places.
You're off and away.

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own.  And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who will decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets.  Look them over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there.
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not so good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's open out there
in the wide open air.

Out there in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen and the frequently do
to people as brainy and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry.  Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You will start happening too.


I love you son.  See you in a few.